


Baby Baby Baby Baby

by kageillusionz



Category: X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Still Have Powers, Barebacking, Charles Xavier has a Ph.D in Adorable, Charles You Slut, Erik Logic Is The Best Logic, Erik You Slut, Erik has Feelings, Fluff, M/M, Mpreg, One Night Stands, Oxford, Pickup Lines, Romance, Smitten Erik
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-07
Updated: 2013-12-07
Packaged: 2018-01-03 22:36:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,641
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1073851
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kageillusionz/pseuds/kageillusionz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Charles and Erik both study at Oxford when Charles' secondary mutation takes course after a one night stand. Erik, who had been enamoured with Charles, had said the wrong thing at the wrong time making for a very awkward morning after and vows to make it up to Charles five months later when he is told that Charles is pregnant with his child.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Baby Baby Baby Baby

**Author's Note:**

  * For [treasuredleisure](https://archiveofourown.org/users/treasuredleisure/gifts).



> It's been the marathon to get this done. I was going to do a little bit more with that second prompt, but time got in the way. I hope you'll still enjoy it. 
> 
> To my two betas, you know who you are: Thanks. c:

Erik paced the hospital halls anxiously, wringing his hands, as he waited for the birth of his son. Or at least the doctor had heavily implied that it was a boy. Erik's head still reeled at the thought that, somehow he would become a father. A son! His first child would be a boy. It was a responsibility that he never thought would be thrust upon him at the ripe age of nineteen, that the creation of a tiny life was a direct cause from his actions. Hell, Erik still felt like a child most of the time. How was he meant to become a good role model?

'At least Mama won't be haranguing me for grandchildren,' Erik thought with a wry smile. His shoes squeaked upon the linoleum floors as he paced up and down the white corridor. Once he had reached the end, Erik turned upon his heel and went back the way he came. His steps came to a sudden stop. Once he realized exactly what his previous thought meant, his entire body filled with a certain kind of dread. 'Mama won't be haranguing us for grandchildren. She'd be haranguing us for _more_!.'

Erik's heart skipped a beat as he thought about the 'us' part of that sentence. The ring upon his finger snaked fluidly over his skin, powered by his mutation, in sinuous movements of excitement that couldn't be contained.

Charles. Charles was the other part of that equation; beautiful, wonderful and bright Charles.

The mere shape and sound of his name summoned a terrifying smile to Erik's face. Charles was a veritable genius. He possessed stunning blue eyes that sparkled when he was happy and blazed with fury when upset. And then there were his lips. Erik had begun a catalogue in his mind for all the different shades of red that they came in; what they looked like in the morning, the afternoon and at night.

Charles was simply put: perfect.

And out of all the people in the whole wide world, Erik could not think of anyone else that he would rather spend the rest of his life with.

* * *

Erik had met Charles in a corner of one of those 'get to know your neighbours' events. It started in someone's dormitory but the event had ballooned out of control, as things tended to given enough incentive in the form of free alcohol to hormone-fuelled teenagers. Anyone who knew a friend or were a friend of a friend were given passage inside.

Charles stood alone in the corner, a red tumbler of something in his hand, looking smaller and younger than the rest of the crowd around him. Vulnerable was the word that Erik had used as he crossed the threshold, ducking and weaving around the other party-goers to get to the young man that was attempting to blend into the wall.

"Hey there."

Charles had looked startled, eyelashes framing irises bluer than the sky. He stared like a proverbial deer caught in headlights as his red lips fell open, shocked perhaps that someone was talking to him.

"Um." He ducked his head shyly, gaze averting into the liquid in the bottom of his cup. "Hello."

He stuck a hand out. "I don't suppose you know anyone in this party then? Erik Lehnsherr."

"Oh! You'd be half right on that note." Charles took his hand and gave it a firm shake, grip pleasant and warm. Must have been the many layers he was wearing despite being indoors, Erik wagered.

"Pleasure to meet you Erik. My name is Xavier. Charles Xavier."

And here Erik had thought that only certain MI6 spies introduced themselves like that. It was, for a lack of a better word, charming. "I happened to notice you from across the room and I was wondering, do you have any German in you?"

Charles brightened, which wasn't quite the expression Erik was going for given that pick up lines tended to hardly ever work.

"German you say? No. Not that I know of. However it could all be very well true since—" he gestured to himself with a casual wave of his hand down his front, an action that Erik followed quite eagerly with his eyes, "—I'm obviously European, well I say obviously. My mother is British but my father, an American. Uh." There was a pause. "Was that a pickup line? I've— I've never had one used on me... I'm sorry."

Erik let out a bark of laughter, caught as he was in Charles' rambling. Quite frankly, he was charmed. "No harm done. Pickup lines have a low probability to work, but they are reliable icebreakers when used on the right people. Do you often ramble at people you just met about your ancestry?"

"No, not really. No." A self-deprecating smile was aimed in his direction and not for the first time that evening did Erik realise just how young Charles looked. "Only the handsome ones." And now there was a rather becoming flush making its way across Charles' cheeks, darkening the freckles on his face.

"What are you studying at Oxford, Charles Xavier? Are you an undergraduate?" There was no way that Charles could be anything less than recently graduated from some sort of preppy boarding school. He certainly fit the type and Erik felt a bit seedy just thinking about how easily Charles could still pass for that age if he were in an oversized blazer and pressed uniform slacks.

The flush on Charles' cheeks was quite becoming. "Um." The way Charles' lips tucked in-between was obscene. Did they honest come in that colour? Women would fall over themselves to have such "I'm writing my Ph.D right now. Genetics."

Erik blinked, eyebrows creeping skyward. Of all the things Erik had expected Charles to say, that was definitely not it.  Mind now thoroughly blown, Erik said genuinely: "Wow. That's amazing. I never expected you to since you look so young." Erik paused, watching curiously on as Charles ducked his head and a blush raced its way across his cheeks. "I guess you get that a lot huh?"

With a nod, Charles looked upwards and smiled coyly. It was sweet and boyish and one that was likely going to send Erik straight to hell for wanting to despoil someone who looked so sweet and innocent. "Just a little."

"Could you tell me a little bit about it? How long have you been writing for it? Is everything going well?" Erik put on his best 'I'm interested' look, although he didn't need to look far.

"Well—" Charles pulled a face, looking about their surroundings where people were making out and dancing and drinking beer. Not exactly conducive to talks about genetics.

"Actually," Erik interrupted, "Want to get out of here? That is, unless you're not waiting for anyone?"

"No, no. I'm— I wasn't waiting for anyone in particular." Charles paused, a pinched look coming across his face as he struggled with something inside of him. Their gaze met. Erik was taken aback by the hot gaze he was receiving and it sent jolts of electricity and want coursing through Erik's veins.

"Yeah, let's."

They abandoned their tumblers on the way out, shivering as the cold night air hit them when they stepped out of the building, where the heavy sound of the bass receded until it was but only a low thump-thump in the background. Outside, the grass glistened in the low lamp-light after an afternoon of on and off showering. The stars overhead in the clear sky twinkled. Now with the lack of body heat in a small enclosed space, Erik sobered quickly.

Their shoes squelched as they walked upon the damp grass.

"Where are we going?" Charles asked, scampering behind him to catch up.

Erik blinked in confusion, thinking it had been pretty obvious. It was getting pretty late and there wasn't going to be much open in the way of coffee shops or food outlets at this hour. "I was thinking of maybe heading back to my dorms. It isn't very private, but at least it's quiet there and better than the party. You seem like a pretty interesting guy. I'd like to get to know you. So... unless you had a better idea."

Charles chewed on his lip, his eyes darting about. They were standing outside, bikes lined the streets locked as they were to the bike racks and the cobblestone streets beckoned them off campus. "Well," Charles began, his mind seemingly made up. "I live by myself a little ways off campus. We could go there."

The thought of going over to Charles' home, to someone else's house, was a surprise. Erik didn't often go off campus, not when he lived within cycling distance within everything he needed: lecture halls, libraries, Sainsbury's, Co-Op book store. Erik had never actually set foot inside a house in Oxford; he didn't have anyone to visit.

"Uh," Erik replied dumbly. There was a blush on Charles' cheeks, although it was difficult to say whether it was from embarrassment or from the cold. "Yeah, that works too if that's okay."

Charles lead the way, taking a left down a road that Erik had never walked down before. The sound of their footsteps ricocheted off the low stone walls that made up the narrow passageways; there was a reason Oxford was a bicycle friendly zone.

"I don't think I caught what you studied. That was awfully rude of me not to ask." Erik caught himself staring at the sliver of skin at Charles' nape that flashed whenever Charles' scarf shifted. He was glad that Charles couldn't see him. That would have been thoroughly embarrassing. "What are you studying, Erik?"

"I'm in Health Sciences." Usually, this would be where people sneered. Sure, Health Sciences wasn't as prestigious as Medicine or Law, but this was Erik's true calling. "I'm going to become a chiropractor or a trainer. Maybe both. I'm ambitious like that."

Something about that statement seemed to amuse Charles. It made Charles' eyes gleam and twinkle in the street lights and Erik didn't seem too bothered by that. "A chiropractor, eh?  You must be very good with your hands."

They paused in the middle of the street, Erik stared at Charles, mouth agape and eyebrows creeping towards his hairline. Charles' hands had flown upwards to his mouth, equally as shocked as Erik felt.

"I cannot believe I just said that," Charles whispered through the gaps in his fingers. "Is this what they call when you flirt?"

Their eyes met and then promptly burst into a fit of giggles. After they had calmed down somewhat, Erik boldly took Charles' hand, encased as they were in hobo gloves.

"How about you take me home and I can show you just how good I am with my hands?"

Erik watched as Charles' Adam's apple bobbed up and down before a wide grin spread over Charles' face. "Yeah, okay. That sounds, uh, good. Yes. Very good."

* * *

The door opened and a doctor appeared behind it. "Is there a Mr. Erik Lehnsherr present?"

"Yes! That's me!"

Erik immediately jumped to his feet, crossing the threshold of the waiting room to stand in front of the doctor. He had been going mad over the past several hours without any new concrete news. The nurses popping in and out of the room were oddly tight-lipped about the entire thing.

Was that good news or bad news?

Sure, male pregnancies were rare. Sure, not a lot were documented and Charles, being Charles, had more than readily agreed to have his own pregnancy monitored by a team of scientists who liked to poke and prod and generally do nothing but barge in at the most inopportune of times. Erik glanced bitterly at the door behind the doctor. At this moment in time, all of them were likely arguing about something or another (Erik had sat through a total of half a discussion of the benefits of a natural birth versus a Caesarean before he had apologised to Charles and promptly left the room).

Was the baby okay? Was Charles okay? Why was it taking so long? Is this normal? Why wasn't anyone telling him anything? Curse these psionic containing walls! How was he supposed to know if his telepath fiancé was okay if no one told him anything. He was anxious for any news of Charles and Erik must have looked like some overbearing puppy.

He wasn't even sure what gender the baby was! Had the baby been born yet?

The doctor must have gotten the same sort of talk from other prospective fathers, for there was something like amusement hiding in the corners of her eyes.

Oh. Erik's face flushed from embarrassment. Did he say all of that aloud?

"Yes. They're both doing okay. The baby still isn't out yet and Charles' distress is causing the baby stress. He's calling out for you."

She nudged open the door with her foot and made a hand gesture for Erik to follow her in, bringing Erik into a second room where he was quickly guided into a gown, a mask and a hairnet.

The doctor turned to him, training a pale green eye on him as she headed through to the second door. "Charles was very vocal about wanting you and his shields are running low so it might be a little overwhelming at first. It's why we have these rooms and operating theatres specially kitted out lest he bothers any of the other patients. If you could calm him down, then everything should go much more smoothly."

Erik swallowed nervously. His palms were sweaty, and the hairs on the back of his neck were standing on end. He was breaking out into cold sweat like a cornered nun but for Charles he would do anything.

"Anything for Charles," Erik croaked out and nodded, prepping himself against mentally as best as he could. It wasn't nearly enough when the doctor opened the door.

* * *

"Have you ever been kissed before?" Erik asked as Charles was opening the door of his flat. He could feel the metallic tumblers inside the lock falling into place around the key.

"What do you mea—" Charles babbled, flustered. Even in the low light coming off the street, Charles' blush was evident. "Of course I have! Just— not often and not for a while." That last part was said in a mumble.

How could anyone resist Charles? He was charming and beautiful. It was precisely people like Charles who deserved all the kisses and love in the world. Erik certainly couldn't, and that was all that mattered.

"That's clearly everyone else's loss."

As soon as Charles opened the door of his flat, Erik pounced, pressing Charles up against the wall adjacent to the door and getting his first taste of Charles' chilled lips. There was a muffled squeak of surprise that melted away into nervous laughter as they slowly navigated around bumped noses and clacking teeth.

Erik's grip on the door was tenuous when distracted: the heavy brass knocker and matching doorknob, the silver-plated hinge and the various screws; but it was enough for Erik to manipulate it closed.

They fumbled at the door amidst feverish touches and giggling, kicking their shoes and socks free. Erik barely admired the feel of Charles' plush carpet underfoot before Charles pushed him off and lead him up the stairs into the bedroom in the dark.

Erik's foot hit something on the way there, causing what sounded like a cascade of books tumbling to echo throughout the empty hallway. Immediately, Erik thought about apologising — that's how long he's been living in Britain for it to have become his immediate reaction — and possibly righting the stack before continuing on.

The grip at his hand tightened, giving Erik something to focus on in the dark. "Don't bother. Leave it there. They'll still be there in the morning and I can't wait another moment."

Charles seized Erik's lips in a fierce kiss, cutting off whatever Erik was going to say next when they toppled onto Charles' unmade bed. They made out at length, lips exploring, breath mingling, mouths sucking. Charles was a very good kisser. His lips must have been made from cocaine, or at some other more apt addictive material that Erik could not think of at this juncture, that awoke something within Erik that hungered for more.

The heavy quilt Charles used slumped to the floor with a faint pathetic thwump. Charles knocked his phone charger off the bedside table as his hand flailed to turn on the bedside table light, and then it was a battle to get clothes off in a timely fashion with as much giggling as possible when ticklish skin was brushed; Erik had no idea that the backs of his knees could generate such mirth.

And then there was a lull when Charles victoriously wrestled the last of Erik's socks off his feet, scrambling up the bed to straddle and pin Erik down into his sheets. Charles let out a low appreciative whistle, eyes raking down Erik's front in poorly hidden admiration. His hands weren't far behind. "Damn. Look at you. You sure peddle what you sell, don't you?"

Erik couldn't help preening at the compliment, running his hands up from Charles' muscular calves up along the outside of his thighs, which were as gorgeous as the rest of him. Erik liked looking good and it was statistically proven that patients would trust you more if you looked like you knew a thing or two about the human body. Keeping in shape in Oxford wasn't a difficult task given that it was a lovely place with beautiful scenery.

"You're one to talk. Runner? I can tell from these beautiful calf muscles." Charles let out a small yelp as Erik squeezed down. "Perfection."

Charles' cheeks darkened, prompting Erik to lean forward and press a kiss there, that turned into a peppering of kisses running up towards Charles' ear and down the side of his neck. Charles tilted his head back, baring his throat for Erik's pleasure, as tongue and teeth made marks against his pale skin that blossomed under his mouth.

Hands carded through Erik's hair, messing up the carefully combed hairstyle, and slowly brushed down the planes of Erik's pectoral muscles and over abdominal muscles until fingers wound around Erik's cock that thrummed and pulsed underneath Charles' hand. The tip was wet and it glistened on the pad of Charles' thumb when he smeared it over the tip. Erik's eyes were quite transfixed when Charles pulled back and that very thumb disappeared into his mouth, an action that drew a groan of despair from Erik.

"I can't wait any longer... Do you have anything?"

Charles scrambled for his bedside table, the contents of the drawer rattling about. There was a jumble of items in there that Erik couldn't recognize with his metal sense. He leaned up onto his elbows and smoothed a hand over the smooth flesh that made up Charles' left buttcheek. There was more rifling and cursing underneath Charles' breath, something about the frenzied movements Erik recognized to be cause for concern.

"Hey, you okay? If you don't want to, I could suck you off or something." It was only slightly disappointing, especially after seeing how round and perky Charles' arse looked outside of his clothes.

Charles turned at the waist and shook his head, sending chestnut curls bouncing. In his hand was a bottle of lubricant. "I... don't have any condoms and don't think I'm going to end the night without you inside of me." Erik's cock gave a very interested twitch at being buried inside of Charles.

"I'm clean," Erik said. "Mandatory check up every year if you're on the swim team and I haven't been with anyone since. Um, but, I'm not sure if you're into...?"

There was an almost hysterical laugh. "Barebacking?" Charles pounced then, hands on either side of Erik's chest, and began licking kisses enthusiastically into Erik's mouth. "Yeah. I'm into that, or should I say, you're into me...?" Charles had the biggest shit eating grin on his face as he waited for the pun to sink in.

Erik stared incredulously at Charles. The grin on Charles' face faltered for a moment, until Erik took a hold of Charles' forearm and rolled them over with a gentle push at Charles' shoulder. "You're a dork," Erik informed him. "C'mere. Do you want me to prep you or...?"

"Please..." Charles breathed out, a low moan chasing the last syllable. The idea was definitely agreeable on all fronts, it seemed. Erik nodded and uncapped the tube, coating his fingers liberally. The bed bounced as Erik moved to kneel in between Charles' open legs. He laid his warm clean hand on one of Charles' shins and pushed it up towards his chest.

A murmured word and Charles tucked his hands underneath his shins, holding them back as Erik slowly fingered him open: first with one, gently and slowly so as to give Charles the opportunity to get used to the feeling of being breached once more; scissoring and twisting his wrist, milking and coaxing out all the little sounds from Charles' mouth with two; and then finally, driving Charles mad with want and watching with avid interest as Charles writhed beautifully over his sheets with three.

"Please, pleasepleaseplease," Charles whimpered, fingers digging five points of pressure into Erik's shoulder as the other stroked himself. "I need you in me right now."

Without further invitation, Erik smeared additional dollup of lube all over his erection and lined himself up. He pressed in agonisingly slowly, eyes trained on Charles' face for any sign of pain. "You alright?" Charles was tight and hot, sucking Erik in like a lewd velvet glove around his cock, the contact made all the better by the feel of skin upon skin.

"Yeah," Charles panted out, perspiration dripping from his brow down the side of his face. Erik dipped his head down to kiss it away, sharing the taste with Charles as he licked inside Charles' mouth. His hips moved slowly making him acutely aware of the amazing drag.

Crooking his elbows underneath both of Charles' knees, Erik leaned forward with a deep thrust that made Charles sing. Erik smirked and covered Charles' mouth, drinking in all the sounds Charles was making, every filthy moan fuelling Erik on.  Who knew Charles was a screamer in bed? And a flexible one at that!

He pulled back, their noses brushing with every stroke Erik fucked into Charles. Charles' eyes were closed, mouth parted invitingly and tongue peeking out between two kiss-swollen red lips, darting out every so often to wet them. He looked like he was enjoying Erik's ministrations. "Won't we wake up your— ngh — your neighbours?" Erik asked between gulpfuls of air.

Charles let out a breathless laugh, a handsome cheeky smile on his face. "Hank and Logan? Lovely couple. They'll think it'll be a pissing contest and try to outdo us. I've studied through many nights like that." His right hand darted upwards to cup the back of Erik's neck before Erik could have a moment to process Charles' words and pulled him down for an exchange of filthy, messy kisses.

The bed springs shifted and whined when Erik changed positions again, letting go of Charles' forearms in favour of taking both of Charles' hands and threading their fingers together and pinning them into Charles' soft pillows. Erik liked holding down his partners, and from the way Charles let out a staggered breath and the change in pitch in his moans, Charles liked the feeling of being held down.

And then nothing would prepare him from the way Charles would squeeze around his cock and around his fingers, would cry out Erik's name like a reverent prayer when Erik's cock found the right angle and brushed up against Charles' prostate with a 'how you doin'?'.

"Ah!" Erik crowed, immensely pleased with himself. He held himself still, arms straining to keep his body upright and smiled like a dork down at Charles and drowned in the blue of his eyes. "Seems like I found it."

"Y-Yeah... Erik." Erik didn't have to be the one bottoming to feel the way Charles' skin must be crackling like wild fire as electricity rushed in all directions, making fingertips tingle and toes curl. He could see it in the way Charles wriggled on the bed, the way sweat that accumulated in all the places where they touched and the full body shiver that ran through Charles' body.

Erik made it his sole mission to hammer that spot for as long as he was able to hold out, until all Charles could think about was uttering his name. Charles' bedroom was filled with the scent of sex and musk, and the sound of Charles' cries, made doubly loud when Erik dipped his head and made his mark over Charles' pulsepoint.

That turned out to be Charles undoing. Charles cried out as he painted the space in between them with sticky ropes of white, leaving behind pearly drops on the back of his hand. Charles' orgasm and body clamping down around Erik spelt the end for Erik and he came inside of Charles in a rush and a blaze of white.

"Should clean up..."

"Mmm, not yet," Charles mumbled adorably. It was difficult to resist the urge to steal kisses from Charles when he was all soft and pliant, basking in his afterglow like a cat in its favourite spot under a sunbeam. "Stay inside of me a little longer?"

Erik murmured a nonsensical agreement, rolling Charles carefully onto his side until they were both spooning, still joined. He eased an arm underneath Charles' neck and swept back Charles' bangs with his hand. The other arm went around Charles' stomach.

Normally, Erik didn't do cuddling or snuggling of any description. But something in Charles' voice compelled Erik to stay.

  
  
  


Erik woke up to Charles riding him awake languidly with the sun streaming from Charles' window that made his skin glow gold. Definitely the best way to wake up in Erik's humble opinion. The light in Charles' eyes made his blue eyes sparkle as he ground their hips together, cock curved upwards proudly to point at his belly. Charles was sporting artistically tousled hair that spoke of a fantastic night of sex — an event that Erik could definitely attest to contributing to most enthusiastically — and couldn't resist the pull of the curve of Charles' lips, rising up onto his elbows and further to trade kisses, morning breath be damned.

And then after some amazing slow good morning sex — thank fuck for weekends and having no lectures to attend — Erik carried Charles into the shower where they kissed some more under the warm spray of water. Erik normally wouldn't have stayed for the morning after, would have escaped at the first available moment, but found himself agreeing to breakfast with Charles.

They squeezed into Charles' tiny kitchen, waiting for coffee and pancakes to be done, after finally putting on clothes to ward off the cold that permeated the rest of Charles' house.

"Does this make us boyfriends?" Charles sounded hopeful, like the term he used was a foreign concept. Hell, it was a foreign concept to Erik who had envisioned a bachelor life: graduating, working for several years with maybe a little bit on the side if he could manage it, and then shoehorned into a marriage because he was suddenly hit with the realization that he was never going to be younger than at that precise moment. Maybe he'd get a cat.

And he realised it was a massive dick move before the words were even out of his mouth.

"I'm sorry, Charles. That's not what I'm looking for..."

"Ah." Charles looked crushed for a moment, his entire face falling, until he could school it back into something normal. "Could we... do this again?"

"Yeah. Sure," Erik lied. He made it a point to only ever sleep with one person once. Everything was now awkward now because Erik had said the wrong thing. But he had always considered himself a straightforward person and it would be worse to break up later and become bitter about it. Much better to nip it in the bud and be truthful upfront, even though he had just done something hypocritical and Charles looked like he knew.

Charles served up the pancakes on mismatched plates and Erik poured the coffee into two brightly coloured mugs that clashed horrendously with the sudden awkward silence that reigned in the small space like a bad smell. They sat at Charles' small table where books and papers and journals dominated.

"Is this what they call friends with benefits?" Charles asked him later, after waving Erik off from doing the dishes, and Erik had finished putting on his shoes.

"Yeah," Erik replied, resisting the urge to shuffle his feet awkwardly on the straw mat that cheerfully chirped 'Welcome'. How would he ever be welcome in this place ever again, not after what he'd just gone and said to Charles.

"I'll see you soon then, Erik?" There was that hopeful tone in his voice again.

"Yeah. I'll see you around campus, Charles."

Erik only knew of love when he let Charles go and walked away from the small flat that had been filled with warmth.

* * *

As soon as he stepped into the delivering room, Charles immediately seized the chance and flooded into his mind without asking. Given the nature of the moment, Erik wasn't going to complain and unprepared for the level of thoughts. He was Charles' anchor in this maelstrom, even if he felt more like a dinky little buoy that couldn't do much for his fiancé.

It was the least he could do given that it was partially his fault that Charles got pregnant in the first place.

<I AM GOING TO KILL YOU, ERIK LEHNSHERR.> Charles looked a sight on the bed and his bloodied gown, screaming like one of the younger mutants in MutantSoc who had the ability to use his voice to shattering anything within earshot whether it be eardrums or glass. Charles' face was shiny and red faced, sweat dripping down his forehead and made his normally fluffy hair all stringy.

Accompanying that loud thought was several scenarios in increasing gruesome detail. It still blew Erik away to know that his fiancé was a mutant, and a powerful Omega level telepath at that, who possessed a secondary mutation that nobody knew about until after the fact. And a very active imagination with ideas that would make Alfred Hitchcock and Stephen King proud.

<WHEN I GET OUT OF HERE I AM GOING TO CUT YOU UP INTO CHUNKS AND FEED YOU TO PEOPLE SO THAT NO ONE WILL EVER FIND YOUR BROKEN AND DEAD CORPSE.>

<Charles, please...> Erik pleaded, his heart and various muscles located all over his body contracting just in case. <You and I quite like it when I am whole...>

The doctor guided him to stand next to Charles, squeezing him past all of the medical staff that had been amassed to observe and assist Charles' delivery. Nobody else seemed particularly surprised by any of the thoughts that Charles was having, likely because it had taken them several hours already to build up the resistance and push them into the background like noise.

Erik offered his hand out to Charles where it was immediately seized in a vice-like grip.

<WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO ME? I SWEAR TO EVERYONE THAT IS LISTENING THAT I WILL KILL YOU ERIK. WHAT HAVE YOU DONE!>

Erik figured having the bones in his right hand pulverized into powder was the least of his worries, and there was nothing he could do but to apologise and hang on for the ride.

* * *

Erik was studying in the library, listening to the sound of Eisbrecher, when somebody rudely yanks his headphones out making him give out a squawk of indignation.

"We need to talk."

Erik pulled his reading glasses off his face and lifted his head up, any number of insults ready to be fired. It was Charles and all of his heated words immediately died upon his tongue. Even though it had been almost five months since he had last seen the man, Erik had spent every night laid out upon his bed thinking about Charles and failed to convince himself that he had developed feelings for (sweet and beautiful) Charles.

"Could it wai—"

" _No_." Charles cut him off, a scowl on his face. "It's important. More important than your Fluid Flow, Heat  & Mass Transfer examination. Back up your things. I tracked you down for a reason." Erik was about to say something else, but thought better of it when Charles glared at him.

Erik quickly shoved everything into his bag. His heart was racing. What on earth could Charles be here to talk to him about? In the five months that had passed, Erik hadn't made the effort to see Charles. Charles, in turn, hadn't tried to contact him. Although there was no surprises there given how Erik had treated Charles in the first place and what was Erik expecting anyway? He had turned down Charles' offer at starting a relationship.

"Where do you want to—" The rest of the sentence was cut off when Charles took Erik's hand and pulled him in the direction of the postgraduate only study rooms. Erik tried not to let that thrill of touching Charles again get to him.

"Stay here." Charles' tone didn't leave any room for argument, and he left Erik to stand awkwardly outside. Inside the room sat a bespectacled boy and a hairier fellow — Charles' friends, Erik surmised — both of whom looked at Charles for a minute and then through the glass of the door to stare at Erik. There were words exchanged, not that Erik could hear or make out what was being said as his lip reading skills were next to non-existent.

A few minutes later, Charles' friends stood up and left the room, grumbling about getting some coffee and lunch. They sent pointed looks at Erik, but otherwise said nothing else.

Charles beckoned Erik into the room with a jerk of his head. "Close the door and then sit down."

Erik obediently did as he was told, sliding into one of the empty chairs and watching as Charles began to pace in front of the whiteboard. Charles looked... mostly the same, if a little more chubby around the cheeks but that could be attributed to stress eating. And maybe it was less pacing and more waddling.

Or it could be that Charles was wearing more layers than the usual person. The recent cold snap had Erik wishing he had stayed in bed and spent the day procrastinating instead of making the trek to campus through the bitter cold in order to get some work done. Sometimes being a student sucked.-

Erik gulped when Charles showed no sign of stopping and cleared his throat. "Charles, is everything with you alright?"

Charles stopped then and turned to glare at Erik. "No. Everything is not alright."

"Okay." Erik's heart stopped. Why had Charles come to find him specifically? It couldn't have been an STD. He was clean unless he wasn't clean in which case, surely he ought to be coming down with whatever Charles has got from him. Charles clearly had friends. What, and more specifically, why did he need Erik for?

"Then what is it, Charles? What's wrong?"

Charles let out a heavy sigh. "I went to the doctor two days ago because I haven't been feeling very well the past few days." That wasn't out of the ordinary, in fact, it was pretty pedestrian. It also didn't explain anything.

"And?"

"The blood work came back yesterday," Charles continued, as if he hadn't been interrupted at all. "And the prognosis..."

That was ominous. Anything relating to blood work could mean anything. Erik's blood ran cold, his skin suddenly bursting out into cold sweat. How was he meant to right the wrong with Charles now? It could be anything from an STD to cancer.

"I'm pregnant, Erik."

Or yeah. Pregnancy. That was normal— Wait. What? Erik stared at Charles in slack-jawed confusion. No. No it wasn't. This was not normal at all unless—

"I join the legions of men that possess a secondary mutation that allows us to carry young. It only takes one night, and one morning." Something wistful momentarily flitted over Charles face, before it was eased away into neutrality. "As you can imagine, I'm five months along... or thereabouts."

Erik nodded slowly, pretending to comprehend the words when his mind was playing a constant litany of 'baby baby baby baby' in the background. Having a child with Charles... wouldn't be so bad, would it? Erik couldn't believe it could have been possible. This sort of shit didn't usually happen. Like what was the probability that Charles of all people would be one of the handful of men that could give birth to a child.

And then Erik finally snapped out of his trance. "Wait. Secondary mutation? That implies that you have a primary mutation. That implies that you are a mutant."

The statement caught Charles off guard, his eyes widening now that the topic of conversation wasn't on the baby. "Well. I'm a telepath. And ... you?"

"Metallokinetic."

They stared at one another in mutual attraction and fascination. How did this important piece of information not come up in conversation when they had started to get to know one another? Yes, granted that they had been rather eager to get into one another’s pants, Erik should have met Charles through some means or another. He was a part of MutantSoc. The entire point of joining a society was to get to know people! Perhaps Charles wasn't afforded the luxury of societies given that he was a postgraduate student.

"But I didn't hear you inside of my head."

Charles let out a little huff of exasperation, and said, "I don't make it a point to go into other people's heads without their permission."

"Oh." A beat later, "I assume you came to find me for a reason, Charles?"

Charles nodded. He rolled one of the chairs over and eased himself down into the seat. Erik instinctively kept the chair from rolling with a tight control on the metal screws and the other parts.

"I intend to keep the child. It feels right to tell you about it since this child is partially yours. I don't expect you to do anything, but if you wish to be in the child's life then you are more than welcome to." Charles was staring at his clenched hands, repeating the words as if he had memorized them.

"You don't have to do this alone," Erik said, daring to reach over and cover Charles' hands with his, gently plying his fingers open. There was a small exhale, a gasp really. "We'll raise the child together if you'll have me."

It was a response that Charles hadn't been expecting. "I thought you weren't looking for a relationship or was that only applied to me? I'm just not up to your boyfriend standards." The bitterness in Charles' voice could rival that of the cup of black coffee Erik had downed in the morning. But he still allowed Erik to hold his hand, a sign that Erik took to mean that perhaps Charles was still perhaps amenable to the idea.

"I.. was wrong," Erik admitted. "I couldn't stop thinking about you and I'm sorry. I was stupid and I just— I don't know what I can say to convince you that this is what I want now."

"You're just saying this because I'm pregnant," Charles retorted weakly, desperate to believe Erik's words but reluctant to do so. Erik couldn't blame him.

"No. That's not true. Please, Charles," Erik pleaded. "Look inside my head to see for yourself." His heart was racing and if he wasn't clutching at Charles' hands like a lifeline, Erik was convince that they would be shaking.

"I— Yes. Ok." Charles extricated his right hand from Erik's grip and brought two fingertips to his temple, closing his eyes. Erik took a deep fortifying breath, shoulders instinctively hunching to protect him from something that he couldn't defend himself against.

Charles' telepathy was gentle — a stark contrast to that of Emma Frost's, heh, icy technique — and it felt like the sun, or a warm blanket on a cold winter's night, spreading into every crevice, into every thought, that it could reach. It wasn't wholly unpleasant although Erik wasn't entirely sure how one could quantify a metaphysical experience like this in terms of pain. He certainly hoped Charles realised that he had been a fool for saying no the first time and realised the breadth of emotions that he had been harbouring ever since that night, and dare he admit it, love.

It was over quicker than Erik thought and he blinked to refocus his eyes.

Charles sat opposite him, licking his lips, eyes shining. "Oh."

* * *

Their son, Oliver — not-so-affectionately nicknamed Onslaught by Charles after he had come around from the anaesthesia and moaned about how bloody long it took for the medical team to make a decision as to how best to deliver their baby — was born healthy 3.4kg, 52cm long with a very strong set of lungs and tufts of dark, auburn hair. Erik joked that he got that from Charles, much to Charles' embarrassment.

Erik had made arrangements and moved out of the dormitories, squeezing his scant few belongings into Charles' home two weeks after Charles had told him that he was pregnant. They had spent a great deal of time cycling between cleaning and packing up Charles' books, decorating the extra room in a neutral shade of obnoxious pastel yellow, and then throwing a baby shower for their son and friends.

They argued extensively about how to raise Oliver. Now that Erik was living with Charles with a major overhaul in Charles' kitchen (kosher; one set of crockery and cooking implement for everyday and another set for Passover), living quarters (Charles' got the right side of the bed, closest to the ensuite bathroom) and shared bookshelf space (Erik got the higher shelves and Charles made Erik get the books he needed). How Charles managed in the first five months on his own was beyond Erik.

Erik got to meet the elusive neighbours Hank and Logan, who turned out to be the two friends that had been surreptitiously shooed out to get lunch such that Charles could use the room.  He could definitely tell how the shorter one, Logan, would get the wrong ideas about any sex related competitions of making their significant other scream. Unfortunately, it would make Logan the reigning champion given that Charles was unlikely to be participating in anything vigorous until Oliver was born.

And then there had been the awkward parent conversation. Erik had invited his parents down to Oxford with a big announcement; Charles had done the same with his mother. Erik had been extremely nervous before they drove down to pick up their parents.

"How do I tell them that I managed to get my boyfriend pregnant?" Erik moaned, burying his face in his Thermodynamics textbook in mortification. How was he going to explain to his mother that instead of a nice Jewish Girl like his childhood friend, Magda, he had instead knocked up another man of all people.

Charles had rolled his eyes from where he sat in the rocker, hand soothingly petting his stomach. "Stop worrying so much. They are going to figure it out just as soon as they walk through the doors and see me. I must look like a whale," Charles complained.

That was Erik's cue to get up from their small kitchen table — Thermodynamics could go straight to hell for all Erik cared — and he crossed the threshold of the living room to kneel by the arm of the rocker and pressed a hand over Charles' belly. Their fingers lazily twined together, and had Erik possessed a tail as his secondary mutation, it would be wagging from side to side like a giant puppy. Oliver must have felt that both of his parents were nearby and delivered a kick.

"You may look like a whale, but you are the most beautiful whale on two legs that I have ever set my eyes on." Charles had laughed, a bright and beautiful clear sound that prompted Erik to straighten and snog him. "It's true."

"You're a dork," Charles replied with a roll of his eyes and then pulled Erik down for another kiss, breaking it off regretfully when it became time for them to wrap up in layers and head out to the station in Logan's truck.

It took their mothers a minute to spot them as Erik helped Charles climb out of the vehicle, and then another minute to make the connection that their sons were walking hand in hand with one another and were somehow in a relationship together.

"Erik Magnus Lehnsherr," Edie had greeted in unison with Sharon's 'Charles Francis Xavier'. Jakob had merely taken his trilby off his head and given them a wave.

"Hello Mama," Erik said and then turned to Sharon. "Mrs. Xavier." Neither women seemed particularly impressed by Erik's words.

"It's lovely to see you again, Mother, and a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Lehnsherr," Charles added.

"Is this the big announcement you wanted to make?" Edie demanded, steamrolling over any attempts at playing nice. Edie Lehnsherr had always been a fierce woman, running her household with efficiency and valued punctuality. "Th-That you're with this boy? Why couldn't you and Magda—"

Erik shook his head vehemently and declared, "I love him. He is going to have your grandchild and there is one thing that I must do before the baby is born."

"What baby?" Sharon asked. Her lips were pulled thin.

"Let us drive back to the house," Charles suggested. A carpark was no place to be having such a delicate discussion and it was cold out; hardly temperatures that would be good for Oliver. "We can talk over tea and biscuits."

There was an awkwardness that could not be quantified. Edie and Sharon had taken either end of the two seater and Jakob sipped quietly at his Earl Grey from where he sat on the rocker. "Could you please explain the concept of 'grandson' to me?" Jakob asked.

Erik shot his father a grateful look and began with the discovery of Charles' secondary mutation and the subsequent months thereafter when Erik had moved in. Charles squeezed Erik's hand, explaining that the baby was doing well and was growing at normal rates. Babies turned out to be the topic that melted the hearts of their mothers, although Erik was convinced that Charles may have had a hand in using his telepathy to coax them into acceptance (a fact that Charles vehemently denied, it had been a mere suggestion).

"And I wish to ask for your blessing," Erik announced, turning from their parents to smile fondly at Charles, "when I ask for Charles' hand in marriage."

"An engagement? You never talked to me about that," Charles gasped, genuinely shocked.

"And you have it." Jakob took a hold of Edie's hand and squeezed it. "Your mother will always think no one is good enough for her baby boy, and I may not have known Charles for very long, but I can tell that you meant what you said when you told us you loved him. I should like to get to know both my son-in-law and grandson more."

"Papa..."

"Thank you, Mr. Lehnsherr. I love your son very much as well."

Taking Jakob's lead, Edie and Sharon both tutted, fussing about until they too offered their acceptance. And then Erik got down on one knee and said: "I know this seems horribly anti-climatic, and not romantic in the slightest, but I should hope you would give me the opportunity to make it up to you at a later date. I can think of nobody else but you to spend the rest of my life with. You have free reign over my mind, my body and my soul, and the only thing that is missing is my name, if you should have it. Will you marry me, Charles?" The metal engagement ring that Erik had been toying with over the last month floated from its hiding place and into Erik's hand.

Charles nodded, squeaking out a 'yes' and gave a watery smile when Erik slid the ring home.

* * *

"Ready to go?" Charles asked, breaking into Erik's trip down memory lane, seated in a hospital issue wheelchair and Oliver tucked safely in his arms.

"Let's find out," Erik replied with a smile. He shouldered Charles' bag and wheeled them out into the parking lot where Logan and Hank were waiting to pick them up next to a beat up pick-up truck and their two corgis barking away in the back. With a small smile on his face, Erik herded his small family home.

He wouldn't trade any of this for the world.

  
  


* * *

**Epilogue; Three Years Later**

"I don't know why you're making me do this," Charles moaned, wiping sweat from his brow as he eyed the treadmill with wary intent. They had already been at the gym for what seemed like a decade that Charles was beginning to forget what life outside of the gym looked like.

"It's about time we got you back into shape," Erik replied smoothly as he groped his husband through his indecent bicycle shorts, laughing when Charles swatted his hand away. Good intentions aside from his husband of a physical trainer-slash-chiropractor, Charles still felt like all of his internal organs were rebelling and death was the swiftest solution. "Besides, I like to make you sweat. Now hop on."

"Make me sweat, or see me sweat?" Charles muttered underneath his breath as he jumped on the machine with as much enthusiasm as one could muster from a rock.

Erik grinned shamelessly as he pressed the buttons for the right program. Charles loathed the way that Erik had made everything look so effortless. True, those abs of gorgeous definition couldn't have come from anything but hard work, but Charles was entitled to whine about it all he liked, thank you very much. "All of the above. But most of all I like to watch your ass as you run."

One of Charles' eyebrows raised up towards the sky. "Are you hitting on me, Mr. Physical Trainer?" 

"Might be." A careless shrug followed until Erik practically draped himself over the console. Hussy, Charles' mind hissed, clearly in agreement with the rest of his aching body. "What are you going to do about it?" Erik asked, his voice dripping with arousal.

"Oh, I have Plans." The sort of nefarious plans that deserved a capital letter. The sort of nefarious plans that Charles had thought would lead to hours spent in bed and not at the gym. He'd never understand the drive of some people. "I'm not going to sacrifice the one day of the week that Mother is happy to babysit Oliver on just gym equipment alone."

"But that would depend on the equipment."

"Yeah, it would. There's one machine I still haven't tried today," Charles agreed, picking up speed as the treadmill cycled faster.

According to Erik's carefully thought out training regime, the treadmill was the last one to build up cardiovascular, not a hardship since Charles had been such an accomplished runner in Oxford. But that had, of course, been pre-baby. "Which one?"

"Meet me in the showers after and I'll gladly show you on my knees."

  
  
  



End file.
